Packed and Ready to Go (4 page)

I detected concern in her voice. I glanced over my shoulder; Walter was tapping the steering wheel.

“
I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She gave me a doubtful look.

“
I promise. Tomorrow.”

She dropped her hand and stepped inside. I waved before she closed the door. I’d never seen her look so worried but between exhaustion and Walter’s impatience, I couldn’t handle any more. I dashed down the stairs and jumped in the car. Walter rolled his eyes at me as he pulled away from the curb.

“
What does that look mean?”

“
It’s late, and you and your Mom are yakking it up.”

“
We weren’t yakking. She wanted to talk to me about something important, but I asked her to wait until tomorrow because I could see you glaring at me.”

“
Do you know how much the dinner check was?” His jaw tightened.

“
Let’s not do this tonight.”

“
It was over fifteen hundred dollars, Tray. You guys were buying bottles of wine like they were water. One thousand dollars,” he ground out. “Do you know how much we’re spending on Crystal’s wedding? Do you ever add the money up?”

“
Did you add up the money before you bought this car?” I yelled, forgetting my father’s advice.

“
Damn it, Tray. I was driving a four-year old car. If you can drive a new one, why the hell can’t I?”

“
I didn’t buy a new car behind your back. We talked about it. Remember? And giving Crystal a huge wedding was your idea, too. You were the one who said you wanted her to have the wedding we didn’t.”

“
Who could blame me? You couldn’t stand in the front of a church with your belly plumped up, now could you?”

I fisted my hands and placed them in my lap. “You still think I did it on purpose don’t you? Getting pregnant in college wasn’t my goal, but you own fifty percent of the responsibility, too. You could have worn a condom.”

“
I told you I didn’t like them.”

“
Then stop complaining. Shit happens.”

We drove a few miles in the heavy silence. He glanced at me. “Why do we have to talk about everything? I knew what car I wanted, so I got it.”

“
Walter, it’s my money too. Did you forget I work every day? I make good money. I’ll give you a check for the dinner as soon as we get home.” I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes.

“
I don’t want your damn check. Stop spending money like we have an endless supply of it.”

“
We just dropped my dad off at his house. So stop acting like my father. I’m not a child. You don’t need to tell me what to do.”

He huffed and changed lanes.

“
This isn’t about the money. What’s really bugging you?” I asked.

“
I told you.”

“
You’re upset about the check? That’s it? The check?”

He didn’t respond as he weaved into the passing lane. For several miles neither of us said a word.

When my anger subsided, I tried to focus on happier thoughts. “Can you believe Javier? He and Carla might as well have made love right there at the dinner table.”

Walter snorted without looking at me.

“
Are you jealous?” I inquired. “At least somebody is making out.”

“
Hell no, I’m not jealous. Are you?”

I shifted in the seat. “A little bit.”

He gave me a dismissive look and readjusted his hand on the steering wheel. I almost told him about Mario, but he’d find some way to tarnish one of my bright spots.

I wanted passion in my life, someone to look at me like I mattered for their eyes to light up when I walked into the room. Most days I felt like I was standing in the shadows watching other people live their lives. I couldn’t remember the last time Walter and I made hot passionate love, or even lukewarm love. My body ached for his touch, to feel the warmth of his hands caressing me. I wanted to be folded into his massive arms and reassured that life would be good again.

A few weeks back we had a quickie one evening when he finally came home from work. I threw myself at him before he could fall asleep. He performed his duty, without touching my heart.

Most days, I spent hours daydreaming about Mario Ferrara, my good-looking co-worker who warmed the icy patches left behind by Walter. Marco mixed Italian words with English in his deep sexy voice. If I left Walter I could have lusty, frenzied sex with Marco. I crossed my legs and tried to suppress my guilt. Good wives never thought about other men. What would my parents or daughter say if they knew how much I thought about Marco? Just thinking about him made me feel guilty.

For the rest of the drive I pretended to sleep to avoid arguing with Walter. By the time we pulled into the garage it was one-thirty in the morning. Inside the house, Walter went right upstairs without another word.

I stopped in the kitchen and stood in front of the open refrigerator door. The cool air from inside drifted over me. After gulping down a glass of merlot, I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my toes together. My thoughts swam together as I poured a second glass of wine. I didn’t want them to stop, because then I would have to do something. A nagging feeling plucked at my brain. Could Walter be having an affair? Again?

My knees buckled. I grabbed the chair to keep from losing my balance. The sound of my heavy breathing flooded my ears. I straightened up, then rummaged in the kitchen cabinets until I found the bottle of pills. I needed them to get through the upcoming hectic weeks.

Walter was already snoring when I climbed the stairs. I wasn’t sleepy. Instead, I could still feel him rubbing my knee and inching his hand up my thigh. I undressed, dropping my clothes into a heap on the floor. I climbed into bed and kissed him on the lips. I pressed kisses on his chest as my hand moved to his groin.

“
Not now, I’m tired,” he barked.

“
Come on Walter, you started something earlier. Don’t you want to finish?”

“
Not now.” He didn’t even open his eyes.

“
Are you still mad about the money? We’ll cut back.” I stroked his penis until it hardened in my palm.

“
Stop it, Tracy.” He pushed my hand away.

“
I think you want to.” I planted a kiss on his chin.

“
I can get hard watching a pretty girl walk down the street. It doesn’t mean I want to make love.”

“
Why, Walter? What’s bugging you now?”

He pulled away. I gave up and sat on the edge of the bed.

Even though I was twenty pounds overweight, men still eyed me. Weeks ago, some young guy had stopped me on the street to offer me a personal hello. He told me how nice I looked before scribbling his phone number on a piece of paper and pushing it into my hand. That number was still wedged into the corner of my wallet, as if I might call it one day. I’m sure he only wanted sex, but that counts.

I took validation from anywhere. If Walter didn’t find me appealing, Marco Ferrara, with his smooth husky voice certainly did. The way he smiled at me at work was enough to make me happy.

“
Do you ever wonder how long we’ll be married?” I asked in a voice that was almost inaudible.

“
Why? What do you think?”

“
We’re always at odds, arguing about little things that wouldn’t have mattered to us years ago.”

“
People change. They don’t always see eye to eye. It means nothing. So please come back to bed.”

“
So is that a no or a yes?”

“
What do you think, Tracy?”

I didn’t answer right away. It felt like a no, but saying it aloud made it real.

“
Sometimes I think we will, and other times, we don’t seem to have the energy to care what happens to us.”

“
I’m going to sleep.” He pulled the sheet over his head.

Was I asking for too much? I only wanted life to slow down long enough for me to catch up. It seemed like Crystal grew up overnight, and now the only thing waiting for me was a long stretch of deserted road. That nagging feeling skidded across my brain again. I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore it.

“
Are you having an affair, Walter?”

Chapter Six - Walter

I pretended to be asleep right through Tracy’s questions until she turned off the light. When her breathing became slow and soft, I pulled to the edge of the bed and slept.

The next morning sunshine filtered through the shutters, bathing the room in a warm light. Tracy backed into me and wiggled her ass, even though she was asleep. My penis pulsed to life. I turned away from her and pressed my erection with my hand. I couldn’t have sex with her, not today. Today was reserved for Sasha. And before I broke it off with her, I planned to have an afternoon of unadulterated bliss between her legs.

Last night’s dream about my mother was still fresh in my mind. Tracy had triggered it by drilling me with that question. How the hell did I know if we were going to stay together forever? Tracy often set nightmares about my mother in motion. They were always disturbing and left me flapping in the wind like clothes on the line during a Georgia storm.

I woke up with my heart pounding. Even after a full night of tortured sleep, I was exhausted. My mother lived two hundred miles away and no longer ruled my life. But she was always in my head, trying to find a place she hadn’t poisoned yet.

The clock read 6:43 a.m. Sunday morning. I didn’t need to begin the day by jumping out of bed and dashing off to work. Sales forecasts, profit objectives, or second quarter earnings didn’t matter. I promised myself not to set foot in my home office to check email or faxes or stock prices. If the sales team needed pricing approvals, then they had to wait until Monday.

Being the vice president of Global Sales sounded interesting on paper but, in reality, the job never ended. Seeing Walter Baptiste engraved on the gold nameplate used to thrill me. That wore off when I realized it meant babysitting an uninspired sales team in a downward market. Someone always needed to talk with me, meet with me, or wanted me to solve a problem of their making.

But Sundays belonged to me. No one else ordered my steps. Least of all Tracy.

She slept and the house was quiet. For a moment I enjoyed the sound of nothing. The absence of noise. Tracy turned over, her eyelids fluttered. My wife was beautiful. No matter what else was going on between us, her beauty captivated me. I admired her ability to be optimistic in almost every situation. Her perpetual smile still made me stare. Her hazel eyes should have been enough to keep me enthralled for the rest of my life, and after today I would recommit.

Give our marriage another chance.

Even with the extra pounds, she still had curves. The extra weight didn’t bother me as much as she thought it did. Nothing on her looked forty; she could claim thirty and no one would question her. Her face wasn’t etched with fine lines from everyday living. Even though her beauty was beyond question, my love for her wasn’t.

Without making a sound, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom at the opposite end of the house. The pure pleasure of silence was worth showering and dressing without turning on CNN.

I wanted to get out of the house without waking her. I craved the quiet time. The last two years of my life were a blur. Daily activities told me when to run, when to sit, and when to sleep. But more than anything else, when to come and go. Life choked me. I only controlled my trips to the bathroom, that’s all. Every day since I was a barefoot boy in Georgia, somebody, usually a woman, told me what to do.

I tried to be quiet as I crept downstairs to make a strong pot of coffee. Stronger than Tracy could stand to drink. By the time she got up, all that would be left was an empty pot.

I walked out on the balcony with my cup of coffee and took a deep breath of fresh air. Tracy had to have this huge colonial on two wooded acres. Somebody cleaned it, somebody mowed the lawn, and somebody painted the rooms. This was her dream. Not mine. Weeds had taken over the flower garden she’d insisted the gardener dig. This patch of land was all she could talk about when she saw this big lot. All I could think about was the additional work and upkeep. It reminded me of the huge piece of land I’d had to mow back in Georgia.

No question, my life was a snarled mess. I had no original ideas to put the company earnings back on track. My personal life was a mess. My stomach bubbled constantly. The elephant sitting on my chest refused to move his big ass. I felt like I was being buried in mud.